


Cumbersome and Heavy

by undeadsnorlax



Series: undead's bad things happen bingo [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Gore, Fluff, Gen, Good Sibling Diego Hargreeves, Good Sibling Vanya Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Nightmares, Post-Season 2, Protective Siblings, Temporary Character Death, always thinking about the scarier parts of having super strength, and being a human with gorilla dna, think vanya's season 2 LSD trip but make it more horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeadsnorlax/pseuds/undeadsnorlax
Summary: Big Brother Instinct - where a character has an instinctive desire to act as protector for a younger or smaller siblings.Luther feels he's failed this aspect of his personality too many times over. He's scared of it happening again. And the subconscious sure loves playing with those fears.prompt: big brother instinct
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: undead's bad things happen bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044771
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	Cumbersome and Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this idea came to me in some half-awake dream I had at 6am, as many of my stranger ideas do.  
> M rating for the weird kinda disturbing shit in the dream sequence but,, I love weird dream sequences.
> 
> I fully expect season 3 to be Luther breakdown central so this is my way of preparing lmao

Luther was aware, the moment his eyes opened, that he was dreaming. Of course he was – he was back in the Umbrella Academy, the one he remembers, stood in the hallway near their childhood bedrooms, in the same dumb uniform he wore every day until he was eighteen and grew too tall to logically wear it. Except he’s…

He flexed a hand in front of his face. Not the mottled grey skin he’d grown to know, but tan and calloused palms instead. He strokes his face, feeling a scar over one brow and across a cheek, soft long hair…

“What the fuck?” Diego’s voice came out as he spoke.

_Yeah. Definitely a dream. Right?_

Luther looked around the corridor, a shiver running down his spine. It was…practically demolished. The doors of the rooms either shattered into splinters or hanging off the hinges. Peering in, he saw only wreckage. Toppled bookshelves and desks shattered in half…large sticky red smears on the walls and floor.

His nostrils flared. _Blood_.

“Shit.”

Luther kept moving, every step feeling as heavy as it did in his normal body, despite now possessing Diego’s. The whole house was dark, not even the faintest of light coming through the windows. It reminded him too much of the days he spent alone here. Every so often he’d recognise something belonging to his siblings, tossed about with disregard on the ground. Dog tags, a ripped up uniform, a snapped bowstring, shreds of a leather jacket.

Now he was in the entrance hall, how it was last time in their timeline – the chandelier that had fell on him smashed in the middle of the room, torn fabric stuck to it.

“Such a disappointment, isn’t he?”

A lump caught in Luther’s throat.

_Just a dream_ he reminded himself, turning his head slowly to see Reginald stood at the top of the stairs.

“Perhaps you would have been the better Number One.”

_No more numbers,_ Luther thought, clenching his fists shakily. But right now, he felt like a child again, like he had back at the supper in the 60s, unable to speak up. How many times had he let the threat of being demoted motivate him growing up? Had Diego heard similar? How he’d never be leader, never be held in the same regard Luther was, but maybe, just _maybe_ if he pushed himself more, he could be?

His attention was drawn towards the living room. Grunts and growls and horrible snaps that made something deep in his stomach churn. Looking up towards the staircase again, Reginald had vanished.

He didn’t want to, but slowly Luther opened the living room door. There was some light in here, a flickering bulb swinging back and forth.

The smell of blood was strong.

And in the corner was…him. His actual body. He wasn’t wearing his shirt, his fur was thick and creating the most unsettling silhouette as he hunched over… _something_.

Luther felt that churning in his gut again, as if on some reflex as a knife flicked out into his palm.

Allison’s head was limp, staring up at him from the ground with glassy eyes. Vanya was a crushed pile, Klaus and Five’s mangled bodies tossed on top of each other.

His actual self turned his head, tilting it slightly. His eyes were black, his face smeared with blood…he stood, towering.

Luther gulped, taking a step back. Was this what his siblings saw every time he was near them? This hulking form that could block the light, muscles twitching and tensed with even the slightest movement.

His body smirked, showing blood in his teeth. Twitched stained fingers.

And suddenly he _was_ that body, looking down at Diego in the stupid fucking uniform, pointing a single dagger in his direction.

“Luther. This isn’t you,” his brother said, voice shaking.

Luther licked his lips, letting out a soft growl. Inside he was screaming, _stop, stop it, he’s right, it isn’t_.

_Stop being the monster you think you are_.

He looked back at the shattered forms of his other four siblings. No, _five_ siblings, because now leaned up against the smashed remains of the bar was Ben, head slumped to his chest and a gaping wound in his stomach.

Oh, all his life he’d been worried about this, wondering just how far his strength could go.

No, he didn’t need to wonder. Because he already knew, with the scars along his skin where he’d tried to carve himself back to normal after his accident, how it started as simple scratches but turned into chunks of gore that stuck under his nails. As long as he kept that damage to himself…

Watching Diego stand his ground, he knew he could tear him apart if he wanted. Snap his neck and rip his arms from his body. Crush his skull with the pressure of one hand, easily. Bite into his shoulder and come back with a mouthful of raw flesh. All manner of horrific acts with barely any effort.

As much as he tried to force himself to stay back, it was like Luther was in the passenger seat and this… **beast** was driving.  
He lunged forward, fingers wrapping around Diego’s throat and pinning him several feet above the ground as his knife fell to the floor with a clatter.

Diego struggled, gripping at Luther’s arm and kicking his legs out but he barely felt it.

_Stop it, stop it, you’re not-_

They were eleven years old and holding this same position. Luther wasn’t as big and Diego didn’t have his scars, and he could hear Ben’s voice yelling near him to calm down, Diego hadn’t meant whatever comment he’d said.

It’s how they found out Diego could hold his breath for so long. He ended up having a hand shaped bruise on his neck for two weeks straight.

Because that’s all Luther could do. He just _hurt_ those he loved. And when he didn’t hurt them, he couldn’t protect them, so they still got hurt, like Ben and Elliot.

“Useless, Number One.”

Back to their adult bodies. Reginald stood in the doorway, shaking his head as Luther strangled his brother.

“You know you’re able to. Why hold back?”

“Because…I…” Luther took a laboured breath, every word being said through gritted teeth as he watched Diego’s eyes dim slightly. His grip loosened. “I don’t _want_ to do this.”

“Yet here we are.” Reginald scoffed, shaking his head in the way that had made Luther’s heart sink for twenty-nine years. “If you truly don’t, you’d let go.”

He _wanted_ to let go, he wanted this scene to shift and his siblings not be dead in a pile at his own hand and for this taunting form of his father to go away, he wanted to _wake up-_

_Luther?_

His grip tensed again.

_Luther, what’s wrong? Wake up!_

Diego looked at him, and it seemed like understanding on his face.

_Is he okay?_

_I don’t know. Hey, hey, Luther, please, wake up. It’s fine._

**Sn-a-p.**

_Christ, hang on._

_What are you-_

Diego fell limp.

The scene went dark.

…

Luther woke with a gasp as he felt water splash over his face, spluttering as he flailed about.

“Diego!” Vanya’s voice hissed, and in the gloom there was a gentle slap.

“Hey!” Diego whispered back, “Sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do!”

Luther’s eyes adjusted a little, feeling the dull ache in his chest from whatever kind of attack he’d been having whilst he slept.

Back in the motel room, where the springs of the bed dug into his spine. Back in the world the six of them didn’t quite belong in with no Umbrella Academy, a world where their father had formed the Sparrow Academy instead, with brand new children.

Safe. Everyone was alive. Even Ben, even if he wasn’t _their_ Ben.

“Hey. Luther.”

Vanya gently took Luther’s hand, just about visible as she gestured her head towards the bathroom. Luther gulped and let her guide him to his feet, taking him there. The gentle padding of feet just behind told him Diego was following, but he wasn’t sure quite yet if he could look him in the eye.

He shut the door as they crammed into the small bathroom, Vanya sitting on the side of the bathtub as Diego jumped up on the counter. Luther, unsure of where else to put himself, just sat himself down on the floor with his head between his legs. He wanted to feel small.

“You were whimpering in your sleep bro,” Diego said, letting his voice carry a little louder now they were out of the main room, “Thrashing about like crazy.”

“Nearly kicked me out of bed,” Vanya said with a light-hearted smile, getting a towel to rub dry the parts of Luther’s face and hair that had been hit in the water throwing, “Thought I was through with that after Five forced me off the pull-out.”

“Would not have had him down for such a blanket hog,” Diego chuckled, tilting his head to see if that got any response, “…Luther?”

Luther gulped, allowing himself to flop back against the wall, looking up at them. He could feel his hands shaking, his chest starting to tighten once more.  
“Just a dream,” he said, his voice strained. He paused, swallowed, and corrected himself. “A nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Vanya asked, now sitting down next to him, reaching out a hand that he flinched away from.

Luther tightened his own hand into a fist, feeling his nails dig into his palm. “I…I hurt you. All of you. Badly.”

“…how badly?” Diego joined them, keeping in a crouched position as his usually scowling face softened.

Luther felt like he could still smell blood when he flared his nostrils. “I’d…I’d _killed_ you all. Torn you to shreds, crushed you up.”  
He gulped heavily. “I might’ve…I think I ate some of you? There was just…a lot going on. Like a horror movie. And Dad was there, taunting me into finishing you off.”

A moment of silence as Diego and Vanya gave each other a look. It was surprise, Luther was sure of that, but he didn’t know if it was a good way or a bad way.

“But you wouldn’t do that,” Diego said firmly, “You wouldn’t hurt us like that, you know you wouldn’t.”

“But I _could_.” Luther winced, unfurling his fingers and looking at his palm, though hiding it from view. He hadn’t broken the skin enough to draw blood, thankfully, but enough to leave several red crescent moon shapes. “I-I always manage to hurt you guys. What I did to you, Vanya. What I did to Klaus, and I _still_ don’t remember it happening properly. Ben-“

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for that,” Diego growled, shifting to sit on his knees, “We all messed up there, but even then, there’s nothing we could have done to prevent it. It just happened.”

“But Ben’s alive here. A world without me as leader, and Ben _lived_.”

“Yeah, and guess what? He’s also a colossal dickhead.”

Vanya reached out and took Luther’s hand again, forcing the palm upwards and showing the marks there. Her expression made him cringe, look in the other direction. Most of his siblings had pieced together his self-destructive tendencies by now, but Vanya had been the one to bare witness to some of them, like that fight he threw back in ’63.  
“Diego’s right, you know,” she said, turning his hand back over to rub his knuckles, “It wasn’t your fault. It was nobody’s fault.”

“It was Dad’s fault for pushing Ben against his will,” Diego added, getting a smug little glow from being told he was right for once.

“Easy to blame him for everything,” Luther mumbled, staring at the strands of fur poking out from the cuff of his long-sleeved t-shirt, “What did he _not_ fuck us over with?”

“I know we’re having a serious heart-to-heart right now, but I love this bitter Luther who hates Dad.”

He glanced up at Diego then scoffed, shrugging a shoulder. “I love it too. I’m jealous of you guys for realising it sooner.”

His brother and sister both gave him a smile, glad he was calming down. Still, Luther rested his head back against the wall, staring at the flickering light until he saw shapes.

“I wasn’t me at the start of the dream. I was…I was in your body, Diego. And I saw me from your point of view.” He swallowed heavily, turning his fingers so he could give Vanya’s hand the softest squeeze. “I’m…terrifying.”

“Remember when we were kids?” Vanya asked, squeezing his hand back with all her might, “Whenever I found a spider in my bedroom. I’d come to _you_ for help. You know why?”

Luther’s face contorted as he gave it genuine thought but gave up with a huff. “No.”

“Because you were always the gentlest. Klaus and Diego always managed to kill it and Allison and Ben hated them, and Five never managed to catch it properly, but you would get a cup and a piece of paper and release it out your window without hurting it.”

Luther just huffed again, wrinkling his nose. “It’s not like it’s hard…”

“You always made those model kits with all those little bits that snap super easy,” Diego added, sliding up to lean against the wall next to him, “And I’ve never seen a record collection in such perfect condition. Face it, for a guy with super strength, you’re very delicate.”

“…I hate you guys.” It came out dry and sarcastic, through a shy grin. “Okay, I know. I wouldn’t hurt anyone to that extent on purpose, but I still _could_.”

“And hopefully when you do, it’ll be on the old bastard himself,” Diego said, punching his arm, which got another scoff of laughter.

“I wasn’t the only one whose powers he was holding back,” Vanya said. She reached over to get some toilet paper, not letting go of Luther’s hand as she did, before handing the wad to him. “If he’d just… _bothered_ a little more, you wouldn’t have to be so worried about hurting people.”

“To be fair, that’s all we were taught _to_ do.” Luther blew his nose into the tissue, sighing slowly. “…thanks you guys. For hearing me out.”

Diego threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling his head in close to bump their foreheads together. “Hey. Don’t mention it Lu, okay? We got your back, like we know you got ours.”

“Let’s get back to bed now, huh?” Vanya added softly, awkwardly wiggling closer to give Luther a hug, arms barely reaching around his chest, “Then in the morning, we could…go to that diner on the next block! The one with all those different juice machines?”

Luther closed his eyes, wanting to savour this moment for a little longer as he placed one hand on Vanya’s side and the other at the back of Diego’s head. He was far away from that nightmare now, and that’s all it had been, and all it would ever be. A bad dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Luther Hargreeves adores his siblings and would lay his life down for them, in this essay I will-
> 
> this is sorta set within Go Make Some New Disaster, but also sorta not. just...that nebulous fanwork s3 time


End file.
